Enemies, Part II

What happened next was a few years more down the road, but it reinforced the concept of enemy. It also made clear to me how much more I’d grown since then.
One thing I’d like to make clear to everyone reading this, however, is that it never happened. Our government has committed no illegal actions, nor has it encouraged anyone else to commit those actions on their behalf.
So there was this group of young men, of questionable morals, who one day decided to take their outing to the next level. The decision was made to give their handler something to consider before he double crossed them again.
Yes, I did say “double cross.”
They upped the ante by taking their mission from “black” to “red.” In today’s vernacular I believe it would be said that they “went hot.” Plain English would read that they had gone from being a covert action, with as low a profile as possible, to an active and armed threat to the local government and military. There wasn’t much thought involved, just anger.
So for approximately one month we raised havoc among the locals, everything from intercepting their radio transmissions and retransmitting them with orders that we found amusing (e.g. hunt down and assassinate a local warlord who was a problem for the locals; who also had a force and firepower superior to the local militia) or taking matters into our own hands about the party officials who were harassing and/or intimidating the local natives. There were even occasions when we would start a cross border incident by firing on a border patrol of a much larger nation.
Day raids, night raids, impersonation of party officials with forged documents; the list went on. If we could think of it and it was going to cause problems, or even just give us a good laugh (it seems they had never seen the “burning bag of manure” gag before) we would do it without a second thought.
We had a very high opinion of our skills, at that point in time, because it appeared that no one could touch us, or even get close.
Consequently we got sloppy.
In our sloppiness, we stayed in one location for something over a week, instead of moving nightly as we had been. An action which almost cost us our lives.
Save for what my enemy did.
Sounds weird, eh?
Perhaps, but you need to understand the psychology of a classically trained Asian warrior.
Much of the training is based on “The Art of War” by Sun-tzu; many facets of it are based on Taoist thought. For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction, one of Newton’s laws of motion. At the time, it was considered quite an advanced principal. To a Taoist, had one been inclined to be rude, the response would have been “DUH!”
To make what happened next a bit clearer, for every force or creature in Nature, there is a precise opposite, a balancing force. Even among humankind.
And it is taught that if you would truly know yourself, know your enemy.
So there we were, snug in our firebase and encampment, monitoring both our own radio network (which was generally silent, as none of our people were supposed to be in country) and that of our avowed enemies.
When the radio came to life, it was a bit of an awakening to all of us.
A transmission from someone asking to speak to the “Ghost Walker,” but they were speaking Vietnamese, I believe the phrase they used sounded something like “sân khấu.”
What caught our attention though was the fact that the identifier they used wasn’t one we had heard before and a quick check of the captured paperwork we had (the Vietnamese equivalent of a CEOI) didn’t show anything that even came close to what had been heard. Our translator wasn’t around, but I sent one of the men after him. We needed to know what was going on, especially since it was in our AO.
At first we thought it was some sort of test or mistake, but then the request came across a second time, in slightly accented English, and note, I do mean English, not American.
“Is the American known as ‘Ghost Walker’ receiving this transmission?”
At this point our translator, a bit winded after his run up the hillside, looked at me and pointed, “He means you Dai Wei.”
I picked up the mike and answered, “Affirmative.”
He then requested a meeting between the two of us, with the appropriate security measures, of course. I asked what assurance I would have that it wasn’t a trap, there was a brief pause before he informed me of the location we were at and how long we had been there. My team didn’t need any directions, we had been compromised. They immediately started securing equipment and preparing to move. After a moment’s thought, I agreed to the meeting. I did tell him that I wanted to know who it was I was to be meeting with, there was only a slight pause before he told me that he was Colonel Nguyễn Tranh. My translator started chuckling, I motioned for him to be quiet as the Colonel then asked whom he would be meeting with, I identified myself as “Jan DeVries.” A slight pause before the Colonel answered, “I see we will be starting on an even footing …” During the next few moments we discussed when and where we should meet. There was a small ‘ville about twenty kilometers to the south of us, we were to meet there at sunset, the following day.
I looked at the translator and asked what the joke was, it seems that our erstwhile Colonel had identified himself as a Vietnamese “John Smith” while I had used the Dutch version.
That night we made our move, maintaining radio silence and even refraining from monitoring the local military. We didn’t encounter any patrols and made the trip in good time.
Early the next morning we were busy. Establishing an observation post, setting up to intercept any radio traffic we could and putting snipers into secure locations. I left nothing to chance, even establishing the route of withdrawal if I should be captured in addition to making enormously clear to all that I was to be left behind if anything should happen. I’d either find my own way out or I wouldn’t.
About fifteen minutes prior to the meet we heard a helicopter coming in, it was an old Huey that had been either abandoned in place, or captured. We had no way to tell. The old bird circled the meeting place, a small restaurant kind of place on the outskirts of town, before setting down in a cleared area to the west of the building. Two soldiers exited, dashing to the road and establishing a checkpoint before the Colonel stepped down. As he looked around, I stepped from the bush. When he saw me, I raised my shotgun, cleared it and set it to the ground. He nodded, we both retained our sidearm’s as we had agreed.
I don’t know what he had thought he would see when he arranged the meeting, but I don’t believe that either of us met the other’s preconceptions. He was a dapper, neat, well spoken man conversant in at least two languages. I was a five foot tall, one hundred forty seven pound kid who looked like he should be an accountant.
As we first sat, he ordered a local wine for us, he looked at me a long time before the conversation started.
“Should I mention that you are nothing of what I expected, young man?”
“Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?”
“Actually, it is a splendid thing, I hadn’t realized that your country still produced people of courtesy and education”
“Thank you, and I would like to add that you are nothing of what I was told that I should expect, were I to come in contact with someone of your rank and authority”
H e smiled, thanked me, and asked if I played chess. I asked if he meant the Chinese, Vietnamese or English version of the game. He asked which I preferred, I told him that the only version I was familiar with was the English version. He sent his aide to the Huey to retrieve the set.
While we were setting up, he dismissed his aide. The aide objected and the Colonel told him in no uncertain terms that he was to leave or be shot.
Early evening became late evening and the darkness became deeper. We lit the obligatory gas lantern; played chess and spoke into the night. Toward the end of the evening the Colonel had his aide secure the chess set and leaned toward me conspiratorially.
“You are nothing of what I would have expected, and I must toast you for not falling prey to the excesses of which your country is famous”
Taking a sip of wine, I asked him, “What precisely led you to ask for this meeting?”
“I had a need, a great need, to meet the man whom had become such a terror to the military and civil authorities in my district.”
I know my face reflected my confusion as I asked, “Meet me? Not capture me? Why?”
Laughing quietly, and sitting back in his chair he said, “Your escapades have been very good for my career. First a promotion, then more money for essential items such as arms and ammunition, “ he pointed at me, “and finally, the joy of seeing that such a young man, a young warrior, could wreak such havoc that three different countries have put a considerable bounty on his head.”
I thought for a moment, “Three countries? I can pretty well guess who the first two are, but who’s the third?”
The Colonel leaned on the table and took another hit from his cigarette, “When you first went outside your ‘hunting license’ your people weren’t too worried, but you have been so very successful that not only have they put a bounty on you, they are releasing the information on how to find you.”
“Destroy all your radio equipment my young friend, all of it, and capture some new”
With that we bid each other good night and went back out to the LZ where the Huey’s pilot was beginning his pre-flight checks. As the engine began to spin the blades, he turned to me and asked if I had taken “the usual precautions.” I swept my hair back and my men immediately stepped forward from cover, before fading back into the darkness, silent. I asked if he was insulted, “Not at all, I would have been disappointed if you hadn’t.” He then raised his hat in salute, and his men stepped out, equally silent. “Both of us are men of war, but we both, are men of honor.”
We bowed to each other then returned to our men.
As I gained the cover of the tree line, I heard his voice one last time.

“A pity, Mr. Chin, that we could not be friends, but good fortune to you nonetheless.”

A true warrior can dine with his enemy without fear, for both know that they might learn from looking within the mirror. Something that my uncles had tried to teach me, but I think I finally understand.



It's not about anger - it's about peace
It's not about power - it's about grace
It's not about knowing your enemy - it's about knowing yourself.

the Monk